ι ηєєd α docтoя
by l2adiol2obot
Summary: Castiel is a man he's seen before, Dean's sure of it. Probably due to how many times he's been injured on the job. But he finally gets up close and personal with Dr. Novak. Not only is he getting confused, but he has a brother he needs to save from Y.E.D.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** I need a doctor

**Rating:** T

**Pairing:** Future Destiel.

**Co-written with:** seven percent solution. Written on another site. If he has a fanfiction, I shall link you guys to the account.

Seven Percent is Castiel. I play write for Dean this time.

* * *

><p><strong>C H A P T E R - ONE<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>CASTIEL NOVAK<br>**

It had been a very quiet evening for Castiel so far. It was typical for the man to work in the E.R. on a daily basis, but every so often he served a night shift instead. There were no pressing matters at hand, which led the doctor to be seated in his office with _East of Eden_ spread open atop his desk. He hadn't been reading it so much as skimming through the sentences, mild lost elsewhere. It wasn't that the man didn't enjoy reading; it was one of his favorite things to do. It was only that he was for some reason incapable of staying focused for the time being.

A soft vibration had stolen away his attention as the doctor leant back, pulling a sleek black cell phone from his pocket. For some reason, Castiel has always had problems with technology. Just small things of course, nothing that could threaten the position of his job. It always took him several days to get used to the little things entailed in a cell phone, and he could never really figure out the sound system in his own damn apartment. Sliding the device open, the brunette noticed that he received a text from his older brother Gabriel. It wasn't rare for him to text Castiel on a regular basis, asking him to go out for a drink or anything of the sort. He was a very outgoing person, and sometimes it was a little too much for the doctor to handle.

Castiel had always been more of the quiet type, keeping to himself rather than entertaining in a large crowd. Perhaps this is why he chose this as a career path, because while he deals with many people on a daily basis, most of them are unconscious. Bright blue eyes read over the text message again before he decided to respond, simply informing Gabriel that it was necessary for him to work late. You would think he would know Castiel's schedule by now.

Then again, Castiel wasn't exactly the main focus in his family. Not saying that he was neglected or anything of the sort, just that he had been different as a child, to say the least. His solitary lifestyle hadn't come from nowhere. It was difficult to maintain strong friendships as a kid when your family moved around frequently. Not to mention that many of the children his age were slightly skeptical about being friends with someone with a Minister as a father. Castiel was actually made fun of for this a great deal, along with the fact that he has always been on the slightly more scrawny side. Despite all of these factors, the doctor still maintains an average level of self-esteem and is not, as many people would say, a 'wuss'. His relationship with his father, however, has faltered. It has been some time since he or his brother has heard from the man, and truthfully, Castiel doesn't know where he could be to this day.

He used to spend quite some time looking for the man, but with questions unanswered and no sign of him for years, the young man gave up. If he really wanted to reach out to his family, he would do so. Castiel accepted that now.

Lifting a hand to run it through his already unruly hair, the brunette let out a heavy sigh and glanced towards the clock. It was nearing 11pm; something was bound to show up soon enough. Not that he wanted people getting injured; it was just... boring at this time of night.

Pulling himself off of his leather chair, Castiel stretched his arms out. It was about time to go and get a coffee from one of their staff rooms. Fatigue hadn't begun to kick in yet, but at least it would be something to get his mind stimulated. Leaving the still open novel on his desk, the doctor walked across the dim office and let himself into the hallway, bright lights and abnormally white walls obnoxiously welcoming him and his now pained vision.

Slowly and steadily making his way throughout the halls, the blue eyed man gave small smiles to those who required them. Surgeons who he had worked with over the years, patients he had helped earlier, or the odd female nurse who looked at him like he was something to be eaten. Those smiles were a lot more strained than the others.

It hadn't taken him long to make it into the room, occupied by the odd worker on his or her break, nursing a hot mug of coffee. The brew here actually wasn't half bad, and when no one was looking, Castiel didn't hold back on the sugar. He was more of a tea person, but the amount of caffeine in the coffee was necessary. On the other hand, he couldn't stand the bitterness. Drawing the cup away from his mouth after one satisfied sip of the warm beverage, the intercom came to life. '_Doctor Novak to the E.R. STAT_'. Great, so he couldn't even enjoy the coffee he just made. Unable to do anything else with it, Castiel dumped the contents into a sink and placed the mug onto the rack of dirty dishes before hurriedly making his way down the still busy halls toward his destination.

There wasn't a large crowd once the doctor had made his way over, which immediately told the man that it wasn't anything too serious or life threatening. Inside, Castiel let out a sigh of relief. It always was reassuring that something could actually be _done_ without worrying too much, or having a panicked family in the waiting room unsure of the news they could possibly hear.

Pulling out a pair of plastic gloves from one of the many dispensers located around the hospital, the doctor slipped them on while walking towards the stretcher with his new patient. It was a young man, probably close to the same age as himself. His eyes were closed and there was a fair amount of blood leaking from his head. "Poor guy got knocked up pretty bad," One of the ambulance drivers informed him as they switched possession of the stretcher to another nurse. "Name's Dean Winchester." The man continued, lifting up a wallet that presumably belonged to the man currently being wheeled into one of the nearest available rooms. "We'll run the cards for contact information while you get started." And with that, he was off. Castiel hadn't done anything except give a few nods of comprehension, wanting nothing more than to get to the patient in waiting.

Stepping into the room and over to the bed that Dean was currently on, Castiel reached out a hand to rest on the man's neck. He had a stable pulse, which was obvious from his mostly steady breathing, but it didn't hurt to be safe. The lacerations to his head were nothing very serious, so the doctor decided that checking for more severe symptoms would be the beneficial action. Placing both gloved hands on either side of the man's jaw, Castiel gently turned his head to the left, and then to the right. If there was bleeding from the ears it would be a much more serious issue, thus calling for a CT scan to check for bleeding inside the brain. No internal bleeding signs so far, so the doctor went to feeling down the back of Dean's neck, pressing gently along the spine to see if anything happened to be out of place.

It didn't take long for the man to finish the physical examination as well as cleaning and stitching up the wound to the back of the young man's head. After having the nurse bandage him up, Castiel pulled a chair beside the man's bed and looked intently on his features. There had been several other small scrapes on his face which had also been cleaned and tended to, probably from when he collided with the ground after the main blow. "If you can hear me, say so. Do not open your eyes yet." Castiel started, his gaze not wavering as he clasped his now un-gloved hands together. It was common for patients dealing with head injuries to be intolerable to bright lights and prone to dizziness. The brunette didn't want to risk this yet, figuring simple questions would work first to see if there were any amnesia problems. "Do you remember anything that happened?"

* * *

><p><strong><span>DEAN WINCHESTER<span>**

"Hey Winchester. We got a hit."

"That's fascinating, anything I actually care about?"

"Yeah. If it wasn't something this big, I wouldn't had told you. But I figured you'd want first dibs."

"On what?"

"Y.E.D."

Those simple little letters meant so much more than Dean could ever explain into words to anyone who didn't know or didn't understand what it felt like to loose everything thanks to one person. That one person had almost taken everything he had ever known from him. But he hadn't gotten his hands on the last thing he had in this world. Sammy. Dean would be damned before he let anything happen to his baby brother. With those three letters, Dean practically jumped up from his desk, grabbed his sidearm, placed it in the holster and took his blazer with him. As he exited his office, he put it smoothly over his button down.

"How do we know this is the real deal?" Truth be told, Dean was a little pissed that he hadn't been the one to make the crack in the case. But that was okay, he'd redeem himself by bringing the sonofabitch down and lock him up for once and for all. Though if it were up to Dean and if he had a shot. He'd fucking ram a knife straight through the bastard's heart.. if the dick had one. "You know how Hendricks thought about the chemicals Y.E.D. had been using? He crossed referenced the tests with what was sold in the area and only a few places carry the stuff. Said few places hadn't sold too many in a while. It took a while, but he found out where the guy's been staying. Which is where your headed. Don't go rushing in. Your going to need back-up."

But Dean wasn't listening. All he cared about was getting there and getting down to some business that had been very unfinished until now. Who was Y.E.D. and why did Dean want to bring this criminal in more than anything? The guy had killed his mother when he was only four. His father had become all consumed with hunting the nut down and practically devoted his life to tracking him down. His father had came close three times, only the third time was what had gotten him killed. Sam had warned him that he was closely following exactly the path that their father had taken. But Dean didn't care. He wanted justice. He needed this vengeance. Sam had once made a joke about him being Batman. Dean took it as a compliment. He took the location down mentally and got into his impala and drove off in the location. Normally he only used his impala on stake outs or when he was undercover. But he needed his baby here with him. Needed to feel like he wasn't alone.

Also to answer the question that's probably been on your mind. What the hell does Y.E.D. mean? It was just the easiest way of talking about the Yellow eyed Demon. People who had saw him only claimed to see his eyes reflected in the flames, appearing yellow before he fled the scene. Everyone knew that pyro-maniac freaks liked to watch the things they set on fire burn before leaving. Sick asses probably got their rocks off or something. Regardless, Dean took getting to the location quickly. It was a rundown warehouse building. Why wasn't Dean surprised? Place could of been a graveyard and Dean would of found the picture fitting. He took out his firearm, taking the safety off, cocking and loading it before stepping out of his beloved `67 chevy impala. He shut the door almost silently and then crept into the building.

He didn't even have a chance to use his gun.

It had happened all too fast.

But the funny thing was that in that moment, Dean hadn't had a care in the world about his own safety. No, in that moment, his own life hadn't even crossed his mind. In that moment, he was already blaming himself for letting the sonofabitch go free. Blaming himself that if he had just been faster. If he had fired a warning shot or even shot the dick in his leg. All these 'if's and buts'. But it was done and there was nothing he could do but welcome the darkness that over took his mind. Nothing to do but fall into the sweet oblivion and if he got a second chance. He'd stop at nothing to hunting the bastard that had taken everything from him. He felt the dripping wet slick of blood trek down from the wound before the world finally went blank.

Heaven?

Surely he had died. Right? He heard a voice speak out to him. It was rough around the edges. It could probably be only described as someone who gargled with gravel. Don't open his eyes? Why? He could see right? He felt a surge of panic come over his body and for one stubborn second, he thought about disobeying the voice and opening his eyes anyways. But the man spoke again. "Do you remember anything that happened?"

"Yeah, bastard got away... Been hunting that douche bag for far too long for this to happen." Dean's own voice sounded a little rough. His small southern drawl added in lightly. He peeked one eye opened and was met with an almost too overwhelming light. If he didn't know any better. He'd think the damn light would burn out his eye sockets. He flinched and shut his eyes, before testing it once more. Couldn't call him resilient for nothing. Brave too, but he was also a lot of other negative qualities too. But he didn't have time for self pity. Self pity wasn't going to stop the bad people in the world and it most certainly wasn't going to solve cases. He finally succeeded when the light was no normally brighter than what it should be. He blinked wearily. Emerald colored eyes glanced around and took in his surrounding. He finally looked towards the location of the voice and his eyes found the most astounding blue color he had ever seen. Could the dude's eyes be any more bluer? Probably.

"Thanks.. for saving me." He surprised himself. Usually when a doctor patched him up he said so. 'thanks for patching me up doc.' then he was out the door and onto the next thing that needed to be done. But something had him bound. He noticed he was still looking. He felt stupid, he glanced away, feeling the need to disconnect. He usually wasn't one for eye contact unless he was interviewing or interrogating a witness/suspect. He found himself sitting on a bed, he sat up, trying to get back his strength. He let out a sigh of discomfort and pain. Nothing too out of the ordinary. He worked some tough cases sometimes, but anything was better than getting stabbed or worse... shot.

People... people were fucking crazy. People that did things that monsters did confused him to no end. What made these people go down this path and do the things they did? He just didn't know what made them decided to go into town and take the life of a loving family away. He shook himself from his haunted mind and glanced towards the doctor once more. He finally took in the man's appearance more than just the eyes and noticed he looked familiar. Dean licked his dry lips for more than one reason. The first, well, duh they were frigging drier than the damn desert during summer. The second was because damn. Dean wasn't usually one to check out a dude, maybe once in a great while. But this guy was nice to look at. As far as doing something with him?

That was totally against the Dean Winchester style of living. He didn't do dudes. Looking was one thing but actually doing something about it? No, he liked boobs and how soft their curves were. Although lately he hadn't had time to go out to a bar for more than just getting a couple of beers. Dating had never been his thing. He was terrible at trying to be in a relationship. His job didn't help either with the commanding work schedule. Most chicks couldn't handle it and didn't stick around long enough to try. So Dean shut himself off to such advances when it became more than just a one night stand. But don't worry, Dean Winchester wasn't so far down the drain of being a man-whore. To be honest he had only slept with a total of twelve women. Two had hurt him in the past, the rest were mindless sex when he felt the urge to scratch the itch.

Regardless, as he sat there in the bed. He couldn't believe how fast it had happened. It was like the bastard knew he was coming. But the biggest question was why didn't the guy do anything? Why didn't he kill him? Thinking back to it. He could of sworn he had heard the guy's voice mocking him before he blacked out. What had he said? '_Unfinished business, that's what I got. I think it's time I paid a visit to all my children. See if they've been behaving. Oh and we mustn't forget your brother. He was the first. My favorite._' Oh God. Sammy. His brother was in danger. He had to warn him. Dean jumped off of the bed a little too fast for his body's comfort and he shot a hand out to steady himself. "Where's my stuff? I gotta call Sammy. I gotta know that he's okay. You can help me right?" It was strange and almost forlorn of Dean to ask a stranger for help.

* * *

><p><strong>CASTIEL NOVAK<strong>

Listening to the man's first words, something had immediately clicked in his mind. He was a detective or something of the sort for the local bureau. That's why Dean had seemed so familiar at first glance. It most definitely wasn't uncommon for those on the force to come into the hospital, whether the treatment was needed for them, victims, or injured offenders they had just caught. To be perfectly honest, Castiel was a little shocked he had not worked on this man sooner. The amount of times he's been seen in this hospital sporting minor injuries was immeasurable. He seemed like one of the more reckless types.

"I'm Doctor Novak, but you may call me Castiel if you prefer it." The doctor decided against continuing the conversation regarding the man who had gotten away. It would probably only cause unnecessary further admissions of guilt, and Castiel couldn't have that. He always placed lots of care into his patients, with a full recovery as his number one priority. But then again, which medical man didn't?

The corners of Castiel's dry lips had been slightly pulled down into a frown once he noticed his patient fighting to open his eyes. The exposure most likely would create an ache in due time, so without a word, the brunette stood up and walked towards the light switch and control panel. There were no other people inside of the room, so dimming the lights would not cause any problems for others tending to injured subjects. The less intrusive lighting would allow better concentration, and if Dean was this persistent to open his eyes, it was the least he could do at the time being.

Sitting back down on the chair he had previously occupied, Castiel returned his hard gaze to the other. "It's my job." He spoke with a nod, which was his own way of saying 'you're welcome'.

Seeing the young man awake now almost made it seem as though he was a completely different person, no longer vulnerable and unconscious. His own blue eyes met Dean's bright green ones, and even as the other man looked away, Castiel continued to stare at him with interest. Many people had told the doctor before that he had a problem with staring for too long. Apparently it was far too invasive and made them uncomfortable. His eyes trailed along the man's features, taking in the facial structure. Castiel had always been one to take time and study someone to see their unique anatomy, but in this case, it was genuinely more interesting than it had been with others. His patient was indeed a very attractive man with all the correct physical characteristics that most people would crave for their own, there was no denying that.

Since Dean happened to be functioning fairly well after just recently waking up, the doctor didn't feel that a routine post-operation (if you could call it that) check-up was necessary. He would simply inform the other man what damage had been done and let him get on with further resting. He was then, quite suddenly, pulled from his thoughts as his patient practically leapt up out of the bed. Following his actions, Castiel swiftly stood from his seated position on the chair and rounded the bed, gently placing his hands on either of the taller male's shoulders. Pressing with a reasonable amount of force and seating the man back onto the edge of the bed, the doctor considered Dean's words.

"First of all, do not do that. You need your rest, and any unnecessarily rapid blood movement could be very painful." The brunette pulled his hands from his shoulders and switched his attention to the present emotion in Dean's features. The amount of worry he was feeling was obvious. Worry not for himself, but for another man named Sam. The lack of shock pertaining to his injuries was enough to tell Castiel that he had been in this situation multiple times before. Picking up his clipboard and telling the man how to look after a concussion would not be needed in this case, no matter how unprofessional that may be. He wanted to make his patient feel safe, and apparently the only way to help Dean feel this was to help him. With what exactly, Castiel was not sure, but he doubted it would be anything awful.

Turning momentarily, the doctor walked towards a long cabinet and poured two acetaminophen's into a small paper cup. Grabbing one of the many bottles of water they had on hand, he faced Dean once more and handed both items over. "Take those first." He spoke, motioning towards the two pills but not shifting his gaze from the other's face. "I'll be back in a moment."

Castiel couldn't say for sure, but for some reason it seemed as though he was being very lenient with this patient. If it was because of the young man's so called 'charm', he would have to pull himself together. A doctor is needed to focus on what is best for the patient's health, not whatever they desire at a moment's notice. Sighing, the blue eyed man pushed all thoughts to the back of his mind as he fetched Dean's belongings, praying that he had the decency and intelligence to stay put and ingest the pills that were administered.

All of his things had been packed neatly into a crisp white bag, now within Castiel's grip. Steadily walking back inside of the dim room, the doctor placed the bundle atop the bed and awkwardly kept his arms to his sides. "There are telephones in all patients' rooms," he began, stepping towards the white phone mounted on the wall. An extension was needed before any phone calls were made, one that only employees knew. That way they wouldn't have people constantly making phone calls, whether they be serious or not. Picking up the light receiver, Castiel punched in the three number code before holding it out for Dean to take. "I recommend you take your time if you need to."

* * *

><p><strong>DEAN WINCHESTER<strong>

The hands on his shoulders had thankfully been brief. When it came to touching, if he didn't know you or initiate it first, it usually wasn't welcome. It was a harsh and sad reality at just how messed up he was. The only person in his life that had ever really touched him had been his brother. Maybe he had truth issues, but it wasn't something he was going to dive into at the moment... or maybe never. Because he didn't tense nor stiffen up like he normally would. If anything, his body relaxed at the man's touch. His body was betraying what his mind shouted out as wrong. But it wasn't like the dude actually did anything wrong. If anything it was entirely professional.. right?

_Castiel Novak._  
>If that didn't scream unusual name, he didn't know what did. He had heard that name before but not from someone talking about this man. No, it was something he read once while he studied some weird markings from an unsolved serial killer case from a few years ago. "The Angel of Thursday. Your father a priest or something?" Dean Winchester did not pry, not unless it was for work. So what made him such a chatty Kathy? He mentally shrugged it off. For some reason, this man had a presence about him that just made you talk. And not just spit lies about everything. No, something about his frigging eyes practically compelled you to tell the truth and all those girly emotions that Dean claimed he didn't have. If anything, it was beyond frustrating. Who was this stranger to get him to say these things?<p>

He took the bottle of water from the doctor and the two pills, downing them without hesitation. He knew it would take a while for these stupid things to get working. Pain meds always took too long. What he really needed was some whiskey. Chasing down a couple of shots made a lot of the pain always go away far faster than pills ever did.

He glanced towards the phone, forgetting completely about the stranger in the midst and focused his mind on someone far more important. His brother. He grabbed the phone, thankful for it being a number he knew by heart. He dialed and waited...and waited. He hadn't realized he had been holding his breath until someone picked up. His exhale was filled with an abundant amount of relief. "Sammy?"  
>"Yeah, hey Dean, what's up?"<br>"Oh thank God, nothing weird has happened right? Everything's cool?"  
>"Yeah just great, remember how I just moved?" No. Because Dean knew for a fact that Sam has been living in the same place for two years now. The place he picked with Jessica because it was so close to his university. He would hardly move away and leave all that behind. It was a lie. "Yeah, I like it, it's a real funky town." Oh Shit. This was bad. Dean had developed a code word for when the shit had hit the fan. So he did the one thing he could do. He was probably on speaker phone and his brother was probably tied up. That was just the nicest theory he came up with. Dean didn't even want to try and fathom up what could really be happening to his brother.<p>

"Great! Glad your enjoying everything. Um, well, I know this is going to sound weird. But if there's anything going on. Give me a call and I'll come down there. Okay? Even if you think someone's following you or something... just.. let me know, okay? Just be safe." Dean should of been an actor instead of tracking down bad guys because you couldn't even tell from five seconds ago that he was worried about his brother. His swagger and all his energy went into pretending. When he hung up, reality came back and Dean was exactly who he had been a couple of minutes ago. Fearing for his brother's safety. His jaw clenched in anger. Who was this sick sonofabitch to decide to go over his family? Why him? That bastard had already taken his mother and father from him. Dean would be damned to hell if he let him take his brother from him. He needed him, he glanced over towards Castiel and took in a deep breath. He needed to get to his brother before it was too late.

"So can you just sign whatever paper that lets me the hell out of this place? It's the matter of life and death of someone important to me. " Of course this situation wouldn't be presented to him had he taken care of the bastard when he had the chance. As he talked and thought about it, memories flicked back into his mind. He couldn't remember how it went down at first. But as he thought about it and dwell on it. They slowly came back in bits and pieces. He wished he could go back and do something differently. Killed him at least for fuck's sake.

Dean had swept into the building, pointing his specialized pistol. Ivory handle and silver finish. There was floral designs engraved on his gun, it had been his father's. There was no one in his line of sight, he walked through the dark abandoned building. The place was in bad shape, decaying left and right. He thought he heard movement and swung his gun to face in that direction. He took a couple of steps and before he could act something hit him. The gun flew out of his hands and slid away from his reach. He turned around towards where the attacker was. He saw his face for all of five seconds before he was struck once more. This time on his back. He fell to his knees. His vision felt like it was swimming. The pain, it had hurt. He heard footsteps and then a voice. "I've been keeping tabs on you Dean Winchester. Let me tell you, your not a disappointment. Almost makes me wish you were the one I had chosen. But your not, your brother is though. I'll let you live because I like you. I think I'll pay your brother a visit though..." He wasn't for sure what the exact words anymore. It was something along those lines.

He had been working off the adrenaline rush that now he was starting to feel the pain, both in his head and in his back. What had happened after that? That stupid voice did some more talking but Dean couldn't remember what and then he was struck in the head. The guy wasn't carrying anything was he? Shit, had he been kicked in the head? Or had he been thrown into the wall before he even got hit in the back? Hell if he could remember. Only time would tell. But first, he leaned against the wall and grimaced in pain. He probably had one hell of a bruise on his back. "Look.. Castiel, I need a bottle of what you just gave me and then I'm good to go. Just hurry it up. I... don't think I have much time." What, he was in the rush? Forgive him for being rude but it wasn't like the doctor would be coming with him... right?

* * *

><p><strong>Continue? Yes? No? Same as I stated before, this is not a threat or am I withholding chapters. If you guys like it, let me know so I can continue to post chapters. So review and let me know if you want more of this.<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**Title:** I need a doctor

**Rating:** T

**Pairing:** Future Destiel.

**Co-written with**:** seven percent solution.** Written on another site. If he has a fanfiction, I shall link you guys to the account. THIS IS WRITTEN BY TWO PEOPLE loves. Don't give me all the credit please. : )

**Seven Percent is Castiel.**

I play write for Dean.

**A/N:**

I'm going to start making it a point to get back to you guys individual when I have some time. Cause I seriously would love to get to know my readers. :heart:

It's honestly only your support that has me posting stuff up here for your guys! I love reading fanfiction myself, so it's always awesome finding new stuff.

Also, thank you for the feedback. For you guys, I'm giving you another update cause you asked so nicely. Don't know when another one will happen yet. I need to get writing but I need some fuel and inspiration from ya guys! Short chappy compared to the last one.

**DISCLAIMER:** I do not own supernatural. That's all kripke. Just playing in his sandbox. ALSO. Most of Dean's inner dialogue during his dream is taken from season 3. ep 10.

* * *

><p><strong>C H A P T E R - TWO<br>**

* * *

><p><strong>CASTIEL NOVAK<br>**

"The Angel of Thursday. Your father a priest or something?"

Upon hearing this, Castiel couldn't help but let his eyebrows rise in surprise. Most people seemed to give a habitual nod once he introduced himself because of this unique name. It was very rare when people actually knew the meaning of it. "Yes, actually. A Minister." At least, he was the last time he saw him. Castiel's father had never been very prominent in his life. When the doctor was younger, he significantly remembers not having him around very much. He was always busy with other things inside of the community. Apparently that was more important to him than his biological family. And now, it had been several years since Castiel has heard from the man. He used to spend a great deal of time searching for him, but eventually he had just given up. There was absolutely no progress, and if his father did actually want to find Castiel, he could have by now. That much was obvious. "Not many people know the meaning of the name." He spoke again, pulling himself out of his thoughts. This was an old issue, but whenever it was dwelled upon, Castiel couldn't help his emotions.

Normally, the doctor wouldn't be one to pry into the lives of his patients. He enjoyed having a mutual trusting and understanding atmosphere, but upon listening to Dean's phone call, he couldn't help but be interested. It definitely wasn't a conversation you would hear every day. Frowning, Castiel cocked his head to the side and stared at the other. A matter of life and death? He observed the others' body language, how he tried so hard to be strong and convincing on the line (it looked like it was working), and the inevitable rush of fear afterwards. "Do you need to call the police?" That would be his best bet. Yes, this may be Dean's line of work, but he was in absolutely no state to be let out of the hospital yet. His injuries were far too severe to have the man running around, and his job could even be at stake for letting a patient out so early. Especially a patient that had only been there overnight.

The brunette immediately jumped forwards as Dean groped for support against the wall. It was bad enough that the man was even out of bed, he couldn't afford to have him falling over now. So for the second time, Castiel outstretched his hands and put them on either of the man's shoulders to steady him. "I will provide you with the necessary medication at required intervals. Now," He took a step backwards, pulling the taller man along with him and then gently steering him back to the hospital bed. "You need further resting. I'm not going to lose my job by letting a patient leave while they still need care."

Of course, Castiel knew that if he let Dean leave right now, nothing drastic would happen to him. He could already tell that Dean was a strong man, and apparently used to these kinds of injuries. He had been handling the pain a lot better than most people would have. The fact that he was even awake already was starting enough.

But then again, if things were as serious as the man made them out to be, anyone would be in a rush to save someone in danger, especially if that person was close to them. Unable to hold it in, Castiel let out a sigh and continued to stare at the other man. Other than the physical pain, there had been no other prevalent symptoms of his concussion so far, so that was a good sign. Perhaps he could even pull a few strings for the man to get him out earlier than scheduled, but not yet. It was too soon.

The only way that Dean would be getting out of Castiel's care would be if he somehow managed to escape. But then Castiel would feel guilty and end up being the one going after the rogue patient. If anything happened to the man because of his injuries, he would never forgive himself. A large part of being a doctor was not to blame yourself when things took a turn for the worse, but this is a completely different circumstance. This could easily be prevented, not like a man on the operating table who had a heart attack and was brought to the hospital too late.

"I apologize for being unable to help," He started, moving back over to the chair he was previously occupying. Castiel truly did feel bad for being unable to do anything useful for the man. The brunette had always thought of himself as a fairly nice man, willing to do nearly anything to have his patients feel as welcome and cared for as possible. But this.. He really couldn't manage. It was unfortunate, because for the very small amount of time the two of them had been talking; Castiel developed a liking of the man. Not anything drastic, of course. He was interesting. And again, bringing up the subject of Dean knowing the meaning of his name, the doctor was more than impressed. "Is there anything else I can do for you?"

* * *

><p><strong><span>DEAN WINCHESTER<span>**

The thought of letting his brother's fate lay in someone else's hands scared the living shit out of him. Dean's jaw clenched once more in anger, this stranger, he didn't understand. Wouldn't know how to probably. Didn't have someone he cared about so deeply because Dean needed his brother. He felt those hands on his shoulder's once more and then calmed him down. Let him catch his breath when he was on the verge of breaking down. He needed to be strong, stronger than ever before for his brother. All he had to do was escape. He'd pretend to be asleep until this poor mook left the building and then he'd leave himself. Where was his baby?

"Where's my car at? I left it at the damn warehouse. That way when I blow this popsicle stand, I can get to my brother." The silent, '_since your not signing my damn paper to get me the hell out of here_' was left in the air. He felt another wave of dizziness hit him and despite what he wanted to do, he felt himself leaning into the arms of the good `ol doctor for support. He tried to take his weight off of Castiel out of fear of smashing the guy's small frame. His eyes slid towards the bed, maybe the guy was right. He needed _some _sleep. He grabbed on to the other's blouse out of an attempt to keep himself upright before he let go and made his way to the bed and tried not to collapse like a little girl.

Despite what his mind was screaming out for him to do, he found his body straightening out and laying down on the bed. It felt like heaven for his bones compared to what had happened. He winced slightly at the small pressure of laying down on his back. Maybe laying down on his back wasn't smart. He turned over to his side, not trusting enough to have his back against the stranger. His eyes watching him for a couple of seconds before looking away. If he hadn't been as stubborn as he was, he'd point out that his back needed inspection. But he knew his body and it wasn't the first time he had been thrown into the wall or into a hard surface. Kinkiness aside, he knew it was just a really bad bruise and nothing internal.

He didn't remember drifting off, so it came as a shock when his surroundings were no longer the hospital but the abandon warehouse once more. Only instead of the Y.E.D. there was another person there, his back was to him. When he turned around however, Dean found himself let out a gasp of surprise and utter shock. What. the. hell? It was another him looking at him, only it was different. He couldn't explain it but there was just something.. the air about him that he knew made him different. Or maybe it was just because Dean knew who he was and it wasn't the man looking at him in the face."Hey Dean." Well that was casual. "Well, aren't you a handsome son of a gun." Seriously, he didn't know either to laugh or just think this shit was just plain _off_. Regardless, he smiled at the other version of him. All bravado and false. "We need to talk." Well that's just what they were doing, wasn't it? This may be a dream, but he was on edge. He walked in a circle and the other Dean seemed to follow his movements, in sync yet polar opposite. "I get it. I get it. I'm my own worst nightmare, is that it? Huh? Kind of like the Superman III junkyard scene? A little mano y mano with myself?"

"Joke all you want, smart-ass. But you can't lie to me. I know the truth." They both stop in place, having basically switched positions. It was unnerving how this dream concoction was alike yet so different. What the hell kind of drugs did the doctor give him? "I know how dead you are inside. How worthless you feel. I know how you look into a mirror... and hate what you see." Shit it was like his conscious was battling and trying to make him come to grips with his worse fears. He didn't like it. But he knew this was just a dream. Maybe all that thinking before knocking out was doing wonders on his dream state. He tried to remain aloof, like he didn't care that he was being confronted with everything he battled with constantly. "Talk about low self-esteem. I mean, after all, you've got nothing outside of Sam. You are nothing. You're as mindless and obedient as an attack dog."

He didn't want to hear this, would shake his head to himself if he could. But then the other part that he still couldn't think of himself would see. Would see just how weak he is. He replied with resignation yet still unyielding to believe those words no matter how much he knew they were true. "That-That's not true." "No? What are the things that you want? What are the things that you dream? I mean, your car? That's Dad's. Your favorite leather jacket? Dad's. Your music? Dad's. Do you even have an original thought?" Dean didn't want to admit to anything and scoffed at the acclimation. Sure... maybe, no, it wasn't true. Sure that stuff was from his father but it didn't mean that him liking it was just because his father did. He really did love his music. Could he help it that the car had belonged to his father first? He had other leather jackets, his favorite one just happened to be a memento from his father. There was absolutely nothing wrong with that!

"No. No, all there is is, "Watch out for Sammy. Look out for your little brother, boy!" You can still hear your Dad's voice in your head, can't you? I mean, think about it.. ..all he ever do is train you, boss you around. " Dean didn't want to hear any more. He shook his head and fiercely told the other to shut the hell up. He didn't know what he was talking about. That wasn't true.

"But Sam... Sam he doted on. Sam, he loved. Dad knew who you really were. A good soldier and nothing else. Daddy's blunt little instrument. Your own father didn't care whether you lived or died. Why should you?" That was it! He had warned the other not to say those things. He had had enough of this shit. He yelled out of anger. "Son of a bitch! My father was an obsessed bastard! All that crap he dumped on me, about protecting Sam. That was his crap. He's the one who couldn't protect his family. He- He's the one who let Mom die."

Every sentence he had said had him throwing punches at the other him. Pinning him against the wall, throwing him off to the side. On top of him like an ape going insane, pounding on the guy, throwing a tantrum. Why? Because the stupid Sonofabitch was right. Everything he had said was right and it _fucking hurt_like hell to admit it to himself. "He wasn't there for Sam. I always was! He wasn't fair! I didn't deserve what he put on me. And I don't deserve this shit!" Just as he grabbed for his gun and shot the other one, he shot out of the bed, panting and gasping for air.

That was one hell of a nightmare that he needed to pull himself together.

He may have been burdened with taking care of his little brother because his father hadn't been capable of doing it. The fact that his father had became as obsessed as he had been with the Y.E.D. for taking everything from him. It wasn't going to consume him like it did his father. Sure, he wanted to catch the bastard, but he couldn't let himself fall down the same path his father had. That wouldn't help Sammy. He shuddered and glanced around. He needed to get the hell out of here and fast. He just hoped he wasn't stopped by anyone.

He got off the bed and wandered down the hall silently. First things first. He needed to get his personal items. If anything they'd be in Castiel's office..maybe? No, maybe there was a different room for that sort of thing. He didn't get the chance to find out though because he heard footsteps approaching from another direction. Must be a guard or something. He retreated and entered through the first door he saw only to have his heart drop down into his stomach. A voice sounded out of almost no where behind him and he cringed at how he had been caught by the same person he had been trying to avoid and escape. _Castiel_

* * *

><p><strong>I totally appreciate all your feedback! Any words of encouragement or advice will help fuel my writing and knock this writer's block off it's hinges. That way maybe another update today or tomorrow depending!<strong>


	3. Chapter 3

**Title:** I need a doctor

**Rating:** T

**Pairing:** Future Destiel.

**Co-written with**:** se7enpercentsolution.** Written on another site. He just made a fanfiction account! He doesn't have any stories posted just yet, but I suggest giving him a watch because I'm sure he'll be posting some of his works soon. : )

**Se7enPercentsolution is Castiel.**

I play write for Dean.

**A/N:**

Alright, so another quickie upload for you guys. I noticed that I'm getting a lot of readers and some alerts/faves. But what really helps get us inspired is reviews. We love hearing positive feedback that you like what's going on! : )

**.0. =** line break while still within the same character pov. Usually this will signify that time has passed some.**  
><strong>

**DISCLAIMER:** I do not own supernatural. That's all kripke. Just playing in his sandbox.

* * *

><p><strong>C H A P T E R - TWO<br>**

* * *

><p><strong>CASTIEL NOVAK<br>**

His car? Castiel shook his head. He had heard absolutely nothing about a vehicle. "I am unsure," he started, glancing down at the hand that was now clutching his shirt. Not that he minded or anything of the sort, he was used to this type of behaviour coming from patients. "We have a separate lot outside that we are known for storing the patients' vehicles in. It's likely that it had been towed there." It was a recent system that they had brought to the hospital. Many people didn't have available family to come and pick them up after their time at the hospital, and if they were in well enough condition, it was likely that the patients would rather drive themselves home rather than paying money for cabs. It was a simple favour they enjoyed to provide.

Watching silently as the other man lowered himself onto the bed; Castiel couldn't help but let out a silent sigh of relief. Finally Dean had settled down and taken his advice to rest. He knew that the man wouldn't last for very much longer anyways. The doctor didn't take his eyes off of the other until he saw the green eyes shut completely. His breathing pattern was gentle for the most part, so that was nothing to worry about.

One thing that Castiel had not neglected to notice was how Dean had moved from the lying position on his back. The nurse had of course informed him of the inevitable bruising that was there, but he had yet to take a look at it himself. Perhaps he would take time to do that later on, and disrupting the finally resting man was not something Castiel was itching to do.

Castiel left the room, softly pulling the door closed behind him. Taking a moment to lean against the door frame, the brunette brought his hands up and rubbed his eyes. He was tired. That was one of the downsides to his job. There were some points where work was constant, and there was nothing you could really do about it. But if he was saving lives (the money wasn't even what mattered here), he was fine with it.

It didn't take him long to make his way back towards the staff room, now craving that overdue cup of coffee. He made it much like he had previously but this time with less sugar. The bitterness was nice, and it succeeded in perking him up. And by perky, that meant the doctor stood up a little straighter. He was not one to show emotions very much. It wasn't that he was a cold hearted man like many people had actually accused him to be over the years, he just didn't feel comfortable showing many emotions. If Castiel liked someone enough, he would open up to them. And if not, he didn't find it was necessary.

He sat himself down at a small table occupied only with a newspaper, and began to skim it. Castiel didn't read the paper very much. If it was something serious that had been happening, he would probably either witness it first-hand at the hospital, or hear about it from his co-workers. The doctor practically lived at the hospital; it was not very difficult to miss peoples' gossip. In fact,Castiel didn't actually mind spending so much time in the building, to be honest.

At least it was less lonely. There was never anyone waiting at his place for him to come home. Even if he got an animal of some sort, he wouldn't be around enough to properly take care of it. It was also a well known bit of information that Castiel wasn't very dependent on relationships. They never seemed to last for very long at all if he ever managed to meet someone anyways. He always managed to say the wrong things at the wrong times, or perhaps it was his lack of experience in the more physical sense. Castiel had never exactly been given occasion to do anything like that, and he firmly believed that there needed to be a strong bond before he would consider it.

Nothing had particularly interested him in the paper, so it was time for the doctor to make his way back into his own office. At least the room would be more comforting. Again, he gave the odd nod or wave to his closer co-workers, stating that he had 'matters to take care of'. This wasn't necessarily true. He just wanted to be somewhere quiet and dim, where he could rest his eyes and his mind with no questions asked.

Stepping into the room, Castiel looked towards the opened book on his desk. Reading would be nice. Letting a small smile appear, the man walked over to the inviting leather chair and placed the warm mug down. Reading would be nice indeed.

**.0.**

It was a slightly surprising fact how long the brunette managed to keep his eyes open and actually focus on the novel in his hands. A few short hours had passed by without any interruptions, and for that he was grateful. He even managed to finally finish an entire mug of coffee. However, his luck didn't last for very much longer, because the man was soon peering over the top of his book and towards his office door which had just been opened and closed in haste. It was strange, feeling both surprised yet entirely not to see who it was that had just entered his office.

"...Hello Dean." Castiel wasn't an idiot; he knew that the other was most likely trying to escape. Standing up, the doctor neglected to flatten his now rumpled blouse and walked towards the taller male. "Escaping isn't as easy as you thought it would have been, is it?" He asked with a flicker of amusement in his eyes. "You could have simply waited until I came to check on you once more." It was the truth. In between reading, Castiel had gone and taken Dean's folder, which included his release forms.

Signing them was on his to-do list before being interrupted by the patient himself. Gesturing towards the folder on his desk, Castiel hoped that Dean understood. "Now I am unsure if you deserve to be let out early." He couldn't tell if he was serious about this himself, but regardless, the doctor stepped towards his desk again and pulled out a chair. He always was awful at attempting to joke. "Have a seat. I'll be back in a moment."

Normally, Castiel wouldn't approve of leaving someone alone in his office. It was his personal space, with many personal objects inside. Why on earth was he being so lenient with this man? He blamed it on recognizing the fact that Dean had something very urgent to take care of. He was unsure of the details of course, but he knew that Dean wasn't lying. For some obscure reason, he could tell that the other was an honest man, for the most part. Castiel liked that.

And here he was, entering the office once more holding a box obviously pertaining to Dean's clothing and accessories. He also took the time to take along some more medication, along with an ice pack and elastic bandaging for Dean's back if he required it. "How are you feeling? Is the pain in your back lessening?"

* * *

><p><strong><span>DEAN WINCHESTER<span>**

Dean Winchester to most people was probably the most simple man to walk the earth. He rarely grumbled or complained about his workload. He had the lowest of standards when it came to everything. From the food he eats (usually horribly greasy styled bacon cheeseburgers or any kind of pie), to where he lives (one bedroom apartment, barely furnished) and lastly his women.

As long as they have a decent body (bonus points if she's smoking hot), a pretty face is also a real bonus (Dean's not really too picky.) maybe a little when it comes to who he's actually going to take to his bed. Blow jobs and everything else but the actual sex doesn't count in Dean's book. He often looked for release without caring who she was, if her IQ wasn't triple digits, he wasn't complaining. Talented tongue, nice rack, great ass. Whatever, it didn't matter most of the time. Just as long as he got something from them was all that he cared about.

The only two women he had slept with that meant something, though Dean would never call it actual love, had been Cassie and Lisa.

Cassie could be described as puppy love, their relationship had only lasted three months. Lisa on the other hand was a different story. Lisa had been the longest relationship he had ever been in. A year, though he had been with her in the past. They briefly shared a couple of nights together on weekend. Sometimes Dean is scared yet at the same time elated that Ben is possibly his son. Excited because he had always wanted a family. Scared because he had the potential to end up just as bad if not worse than his father. Turning into an obsessive bastard is not high on his to do list. Dean knew his father had tried and meant his best when it came to raising him and Sam but, he just hadn't been _there_ most of the time. Lisa had told him Ben wasn't his, thankfully she hadn't been lying when Dean went behind her back with a DNA test. Ben really wasn't his despite how similar they were. But that didn't mean that Dean had treated him any different.

It had been hard leaving.  
>Heart breaking for Ben when Lisa moved on to men that she deserved. The men that could give her everything she needed and desired. Things that Dean couldn't give no matter what was in his heart. Despite what people say about his sexual exploits (which are often blown way out of proportion) He has and never will cheat on anyone he is committed to. What couldn't Dean give to make things work out?<p>

Time.  
>He was always neck deep in his work. solely focused on saving lives or bringing justice to those who couldn't take matters into their own hands. It was always most difficult when it was women or children's bodies that were at the center of a crime scene. Dean shuttered to think of anything horrible befalling his baby brother.<p>

Sammy.  
>Kid was anything but a baby. Frigging gigantor more like it. Sam was not only six feet and four inches tall, but he was well built. Growing less lanky and more of a man than Dean would ever like to admit or see him as. In his eyes, Sammy would always be that ten year old kid complaining about having spaghetti O's. instead of a real meal. He was always four years younger than Dean was. And above everything, he meant and WAS Dean's own little world.<p>

Dean could positively say that he had never had anyone else as important to him as his brother was. Dean was the type of person to drop everything if his brother needed the help. Even when Sam wasn't his favorite person in the world. Those times were the worst, when they fought. When words were exchanged that they would end up regretting later. The worst time ever had been when Sam had left for college, leaving Dean behind. Dean had never felt more left behind and abandon than ever. But eventually Dean got over himself and was more than happy to see his brother make something of himself and supported him as much as he could while his father told him a load of other things that Dean didn't even want to think about.

**.0.**

"Hello Dean."  
>Was it just him or did his body involuntary shiver at the tone of that voice? He just chalked it up to not eating anything for quite a while. Yeah, that's it. Hunger. He was hungry. Let's just leave at that, he thought to himself bitterly as he stood up straighter. <em>Great, now I'm preening like one of those girly birds with all the colors.<em>

"Escaping isn't as easy as you thought it would have been, is it?You could have simply waited until I came to check on you once more." And what? Knock the guy out? Dean wasn't really against using force if he absolutely needed to..but the thought of even raising a fist to the guy that saved his life... that just didn't seem right at all. That and he didn't think he could mar a nice looking face anyways. Castiel had something going on, he could be possibly even described as beautiful. It kind of reminded him of a chick and he didn't hit chicks. At least that's what Dean was telling himself. It wasn't wrong to admire someone's looks, right? It's not like he hadn't looked at other men before and think they were nice to look at. Wasn't like he was doing anything else. Nope...

Not at all.

"Now I am unsure if you deserve to be let out early. Have a seat. I'll be back in a moment." When the good doctor left the room, Dean all but collapsed into the chair. Tired but his mind was going on overload. What if the guy didn't give him the okay? What if he couldn't leave? Oh god, Sammy... he could be getting tortured right now... or worse. When Castiel returned, "How are you feeling? Is the pain in your back lessening?"he heard the question and felt his anger boil. If anything, his jaw clenching was probably the only dead give away besides the tight control over his voice. Dean didn't like to yell but he wasn't against doing it to get his point across.

Dean was on the verge of panicking. He tried to keep his voice even, but he knew his anger was leaking through his voice. "How am I feeling? Fan-friggin-tastic. What do you mean if I deserve to be let out. I seriously need to get to my brother. This isn't a damn joke and letting other people into my personal business really isn't my thing." This was personal business, had been every since his mother had been taken away from this world and more importantly...from him. Then his father. He'd be damned if he let the same thing happen to his only connection to this world. The only thing that kept him going over the edge... that kept him going period. If he lost Sammy...he didn't know what he'd do or where he'd be besides lost. " Do you not have family you care about? People you'd die for?"

Dean needed to get through to the man across from him. He needed to get Castiel to understand, to see what he would do if he had been put in the same situation. He needed the doctor to see that he'd go from above and beyond for his brother. He needed an idea...

Then it struck him like a sledgehammer. "Look, if your really not wanting to release me because you care," Dean scoffed as if the idea of someone who wasn't family cared about him was silly. Dean could honestly count the people who weren't his flesh and blood on one hand in his life that gave a rat's ass about what happened to him.

"You'd come alone with me, make sure I don't get myself killed. " If you noticed the way he was and the things he said. You'd notice that he actually avoided answering Castiel's main question. How was _Dean_ feeling? Dean was in pain, but he figured he'd live as long as he got his hands on some pain meds. He'd worry about himself later.

* * *

><p><strong>A little R&amp;R please? : )<br>**


End file.
